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  • A white shadow sweeps across the darkness,

    great feathered wings silent as the drifting snow

    that lies deep in a forest silvered by a waning moon,

    still but for bare birch rattled by the bitter wind.

    In the darkness a rabbit screams,

    thrashing wings echo among the birch,

    then silence falls and the forest is still again,

    but for the wind blowing through brittle branches.

    A great snowy owl rises from the forest floor,

    sweeps overhead with strong, silent wing beats,

    its burden limp, clenched in feathered talons,

    staining the pristine snow with a single crimson drop.

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